Commissioner Fields
by Mrs-Eadig
Summary: A background story of such. What happends to Inspector Fields after apprehending Ivan Reynolds? After returning to his home town of Washington, Fields finds himself and the people he loves in mortal danger.
1. Chapter 1

Commissioner Fields

Emmett Fields looked at his outfit in the long dressing mirror. He had to admit from outward appearance he looked the epitome of the part that he was about to play. His suit of dark blue had been expertly pressed, his cotton shirt was crisp white and starched accordingly whilst his black leather boots were polished to a high shine. He certainly looked like the Commissioner of Washington's finest police.

Taking one last look at his appearance, Fields bent down to the dresser and picked up a thick manila envelope that contained his directives, signed by the Governor of Washington, Mr George Atherton. His orders were to report to the police station at 8.30am sharp where he would begin his command as the director and chief. He thumbed the torn edge of the envelope pondering the appointment. When he first received the correspondence he refused the job. Since returning to his home town from Baltimore he resigned himself to a life away from the force, but the Governor had been so persistent that eventually he did the gracious thing and accepted the post.

Climbing down the stairs from his room to the entrance hall he retrieved his top hat and coat from the coat stand and stepped out into the chilly morning air.

Fields arrived at the police headquarter right on time and stood outside the building taking in the magnitude of it. The building was one of the grandest places he had ever seen. The white marble structure was decorated with statues of great criminalists from throughout history- or an artist's impression of these saluted heroes. Taking in a deep breath he crossed the threshold into what would be his home for at least the next few years. The newly appointed commissioner walked into the grand lobby and after asking the receptionist where he could find the Chief Inspector, he climbed the two flights of stairs that took him to the specialist crime and operations offices.

The office was a hub of noise. Constables and secretaries were dotted all about the large room, holding conversations amongst themselves and interviewing would be witnesses and suspects. Along the far side of the room were tiny windowed cubicles, each one housed an Inspector and his clerk. At the end of the large office was a booth much larger than the rest, inside sat a man dressed in an extremely fine and most likely expensive morning suit, smoking a cigar. This was most likely the Governor. The Governor spotted his new appointment and hailed him across the room. As Fields walked through the throng, those closest to him surveyed him with equal interest and judgement. They knew who he was for certain.

"Ah Fields found the place alright?" Governor Atherton asked, his voice a booming echo in the heavy populated room.

"Yes thank you Governor." Fields replied nervously.

The rotund man smiled and laughed warmly at the younger Fields and gestured for him to enter the smaller office.

"Forget the title Field's, call me George."

Inside the room were three other men, one was dressed as finely as the Governor but was more around Field's age, the middle one a young constable, whereas the last one had about ten years on him and was clearly an Inspector of some kind. He wore a suit of brown wool that had been heavily darned at one cuff and looked like it had not been pressed in a few days. A former Inspector himself, Field understood and presumed this man had come off a long and arduous night shift and most likely been asked to be there to greet him this morning.

"May I introduce my eldest, John, your first in command Inspector Lewis and your personal clerk Constable Thompson"

Fields offered his good mornings. The young John greeted him just as warmly as his father had done, Thompson nodded his head respectfully, whereas Lewis grunted his reply.

"Well Mr Fields, I hope you are as excited as I am about your appointment?" John asked eagerly.

"I just hope I do the job to the best of your satisfaction Mr Atherton."

"Have you taken some time to acquaint yourself with the City Mr Fields?" Lewis asked accusingly.

"_Comissioner_ Fields was born here Inspector. He knows this City better than you do I'd wager." John retaliated.

"I maybe a little rusty Inspector, but I'm sure it'll all come back to me soon enough."

"Good show. Well now that you're settled in, I'll leave you to it."

The Governor slapped Fields on the back with a podgy hand and headed for the door, before he reached it he turned around,

"Fields before I forget I'm hosting a get together tonight. I want you to come as my guest."

"Thank you sir." He replied shakily.

Fields couldn't think of anything worse than an evening spent with Washington's upper crust, but knew he could not do anything to upset his influential employer.

"Very good. Tomorrow night then." The Governor replied with another joyous boom before he promptly left.


	2. Chapter 2

Fields stepped out of the carriage onto the sidewalk. After paying the driver he adjusted his cravat before grabbing the knocker of the lacquered door. Wrapping the knocker sharply three times he waited patiently on the stoop. The night was cold and every breath was short and sharp in his chest. The door opened swiftly pouring light and warmth from inside the Governors house onto the dimly lit street. A butler dressed in evening tails stood on the doorway and greeted him with a stiff and proper hello.

"Good Evening, Inspector…forgive me, Commissioner Fields."

"Good evening Sir. The family are in the drawing room. May I take your coat?"

Fields undressed quickly, removing his taut gloves, top hat and cloak. The heat of the entrance hall warmed his cheeks and he immediately began to relax.

The butler showed the Commissioner into the parlour, which was full of Washington's most esteemed families. He was introduced most pompously to the other guests and as immediately inspected like a piece of evidence at a crime scene. Fields looked around the room for any familiar faces. It had been eight long years since he had lived in the City, though many in that room knew him by name he spotted no one that he remembered or was familiar with. The young John Atherton was the first to spy him from across the room and instantly came over to welcome him.

"Fields you made it!"

"Thank you for the invitation Mr Atherton."

"Think nothing of it. So how was your first day in the job?"

"Busy. It seems my predecessor left a lot of stones unturned before he retired."

"Ah yes, Commissioner Goodman was all that in name I'm afraid, but less so in practice. I fear you will be kept very busy for some time."

"I can assure you Mr Atherton I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of Washington's streets and its people."

"Christ Fields, you sound like you're on an election campaign. You don't have to convince me. In truth I was your biggest champion. After reading about your involvement in the Baltimore Poe Murders, I knew you were the perfect man for the job."

Fields breathed in heavily at the reminder. The Baltimore Poe murders were not his finest hours as a law enforcer. Sure, Fields eventually apprehended the culprit after following Poe's cryptic message to Paris, France. However, the devastation the villain left in his wake was enough to garner him the derision of his superiors within the force.

Atherton did not seem to notice his companion's unease and as a server passed by with a tray of champagne, he reached for two and passed the second to Fields.

"Never fear Fields, you will always have a supporter in me."

The socialite clinked glasses with the Commissioner and smiled as he left him to entertain his other guests.

Fields drank from his glass and recoiled as the dry liquid hit his palette.

"You never were a champagne drinker were you Emmett?"

The Commissioner turned his head when he heard his first name spoken so familiarly. Stood before him was a lady no older than twenty-five, dressed impeccably in a cameo pink evening gown, her auburn hair drawn loosely off her face and over a creamy pale shoulder that was exposed.

"Meg…I mean Miss Porter. How are you?"

Margaret Porter giggled delightfully at Fields politeness as she moved to stand beside him,

"I'm very well _Commissioner_. How are you?"

"Yes. Good thank you." Fields stumbled.

"I didn't expect to see you at this soirée?"

"It was a late invitation." He gestured towards John.

"I see. So you've made some friends in high places since you returned?" Meg teased.

"I think friends is an exaggeration. I am an operative of the City, therefore an employee of the Atherton's. What about you Miss Porter? How do you know the esteemed Atherton's?"

"_Mr_ Atherton is an old friend of father's from court, so naturally we got our invitation early." She replied light heartedly.

Fields laughed genuinely with the young woman, despite their age difference he had always enjoyed her company since their youth. At that moment Meg's mother arrived at their side a look of sheer disdain on her face.

"Margaret, John would like to speak to you."

"Yes mama. May we talk again later Emmett?"

Fields nodded his reply and smiled kindly at Meg. He watched her walk away gracefully and noted she tossed him a smirk of her own over her shoulder. This made him beam from ear to ear, however the smile was soon wiped off his face by the scowl on Mrs Porter's face.

"Mr Fields what an unexpected pleasure. We didn't know _you_ would be here?"

"Neither did I Mrs Porter I was invited just this morning."

"Really? You cannot be a _close_ friend of Governor Atherton then?"

Mrs Porter had always been dismissive of Emmett in his younger years, he wasn't surprised that she still thought little of him now.

"No ma'am not as close as you I'm sure."

"No. We dined here the other evening to be in fact. Well I say we, my daughter dined with the Atherton's and their eldest. Have you met John?"

"We are acquainted yes."

"Quite a favourite of his is my Margaret." She said leading, "Well good evening Mr Fields"

With that Mrs Porter left the Commissioner pondering what she meant by _his_ favourite.


	3. Chapter 3

Duties and Desires

Fields spent the next morning deep in paper work. He arrived at work at 8.30am as he had the previous day and had managed to sort the correspondences from officials and dignitaries into several piles, each one with their own level of importance. By lunch time he had read and responded personally to the list that he named "_important but not quite urgent_" whilst passing the stack he labelled "_important and could wait_" onto Inspector Lewis and Constable Thompson. By half past two he was famished and looked dishevelled. His collar was undone and as usual he had rolled up his sleeves to save them from the ink on his desk. He had skipped lunch in the hope it would allow him to return home at a reasonable hour if he worked through it.

He called out to the Constable who quickly entered his office,

"Yes Commissioner?"

"Could you get me a cup of coffee please?"

"Of course sir."

Thompson was about to duck his head out the door when Fields called him back,

"Get one for yourself Thompson. You've worked as hard as I today."

"Yes sir. Thank you."

Thompson smiled back at his boss. Although he had only been in the post two days, Thompson had worked closely with the new Commissioner and had grown to like him immediately. He had no airs and graces like the previous post holder had. He was an Inspector straight off the beat like the rest of the officers in Washington and for that reason he respected him.

Thompson closed the door to the Commissioner's office and began walking to the kitchenette located across the room. As he headed towards the stove and grabbed the aging coffee pot, the Constable glanced towards the main door that led to the corridor and noticed a lady dressed in a fine winter coat and delicate hat had just walked in. She seemed lost by the way she peered uncertainly around the office, so he replaced the pot on the hotplate and went over to assist her.

"Can I help you Miss?"

"Porter. Yes please, I was looking for Commissioner Fields."

"Do you have an appointment Miss Porter?"

"No I'm afraid I don't. But if you wouldn't mind telling him I'm here, I would be eternally grateful."

"I'll see if he free. If you would like to step this way."

Constable Thompson treated Meg with every courtesy. He had no idea who she was but by her dress and manner, he could tell she was a lady of consequence.

As she walked through the office towards Emmett's office, Meg could feel the eyes of the officers on her and hear their tongues wagging as she followed Thompson down the wooden room. They reached the glassed door in no time and she waited patiently as the Constable knocked politely on the door.

"Yes!" Boomed Emmett's voice from inside.

The sound made butterflies flutter within the pit of Meg's stomach.

"Forgive me Sir, there's a Miss Porter to see you." Thompson explained as he opened the door.

Fields stared up at Thompson from his desk a look of pure shock. He flinched suddenly as the piece of paper he had been holding slipped in his hand, slicing into the delicate skin between his forefinger and thumb.

"Shall I ask her to wait sir?"

"No, send her in."

The Commissioner straightened his waistcoat as he stood from his chair but forgot to roll down his sleeves, whilst Thompson stood to one side and gestured to Meg to enter the office.

"Miss Porter, how can I help you?"

Meg waited for the Constable to shut the door before she replied she didn't want him to overhear,

"Emmett, can we desist with formalities?"

"Of course. What can I do for you?"

"I've come to invite you, my goodness your hand!"

Meg rushed to his side and produced a white cotton handkerchief from her purse. She pressed it firmly on Emmett's hand and wrapped her fingers around it tightly. Her hand was promptly removed as the Commissioner wrapped his other hand over the bandage. Rebuffed the young woman walked back around to the other side of the desk and continued somewhat stiffly.

"I've come to invite you to dinner, as a way of an apology."

"I'm not sure what you're apologising for. If that's the case, then believe me when I say you're forgiven."

"Thank you, but I insist. I promised to continue our conversation last night but I was unfortunately detained. Inviting you to dinner, I thought the best solution. Then we can have a proper chat."

"Are you sure you are not already engaged elsewhere?"

Fields asked in an accusing tone. Mrs Porter's account of her daughter's habits had left a bitter taste in his mouth. The moment the words had escaped his mouth he regretted uttering them. Meg looked at him hurt.

"Now it is my turn to apologise."

The pair looked at each other and without words reconciled.

Meg approached her old acquaintance and rested her hands on the back of the chair that faced the desk,

"It's settled then. You can take me out for dinner instead."

Fields had arranged to meet Meg at a restaurant on the south side of the City at 8 o'clock that evening. That gave him enough time to change into his evening dress and order a carriage to be sent to her home. As the sun set on the City, Fields felt relieved for the days end. He had managed to finish his correspondences and was satisfied that the majority of the issues were dealt with, in short he could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

As he extinguished the lamps on his desk and collected his coat and hat from the stand. Fields looked over his desk one last time and spotted the handkerchief that Meg had produced to bind his hand. It was spotted with blood and crumpled. He picked it up to inspect it and smiled privately to himself. Suddenly the doors of the main office burst open with a clatter. Dropping the token back on his desk, Fields exited his room and looked down through the faces of his officers and Inspectors to see a young red haired Constable stumble in through the door like a whirling dervish.

"Inspector Lewis! Inspector, there's been a murder!"


	4. Chapter 4

Murder

The scene of the crime was grisly. A man in his late fifties was slumped at his desk, hands clamped to the table by a letter opener, his throat garrotted by his shoe laces. The death would have been perturbing at best had the victim been some nameless figure, however unknown he was not. It was William Goodman, a man of wealth and consequence, in fact he was previous police Commissioner of Washington DC.

When Fields came upon the scene, he was met by two Constables from his force. He relieved them from their duties and entered the study where Goodman sat. Before taking further steps inside, he scrutinised the room with minute detail. Deciding he had deduced all he could from the doorway he walked into the crime scene. Fields meandered around the desk where Goodman was sat, collapsed in his seat. He peered at the laces that were tied tightly around his throat. Dyed black hemp, with leather toggles at the end. He bent down to the floor and inspected Goodman's shoes, his laces were still in tact.

Constable Thompson arrived in the doorway, his body casting a shadow into the room.

"Lord have mercy!" He exclaimed when he saw the body.

"Step out of the light Constable Thompson." Fields said flatly.

"Sorry sir."

"It's quite alright."

Fields stood from his crouched position and continued to examine the body. He tilted his head to one side as he looked at the old Commissioners hands and spoke,

"Constable, what kind of man would sit completely still, whilst the perpetrator impaled them with a sharp instrument." Fields waited for a reply, however Thompson merely shrugged at the Commissioner obscure question,

"It's simple. Mr Goodman knew his attacker."

"How can you be sure sir?" Thompson asked puzzled.

"There is no physical sign of a struggle. The door is unmarked by boot or crowbar and sits on its hinges, suggesting that the Commissioner let the assailant in."

Thompson looked towards the doorway and nodded his concurrence. Fields walked around to the other side of the body as he continued his explanation,

"His hands are folded, one on top of the other. No man would willingly sit in such a way, unless they felt comfortable with the man they were talking to."

He stooped closer to the letter opener that was staked through Goodman's hands,

"What's this mark on the side of the handle?"

Thompson came over to the desk and inspected the handle himself,

"The centenary crest sir, given to those in commission to commemorate independence. A gift from the Governor of Washington."

Thompson rolled his eyes and shook his head. He didn't understand how the rich thought a silver plated letter opener was a suitable present, but surmised that if that's what the rich and powerful thought who was he to judge.

Fields ignored his remark and continued,

"This has immense value, sentimental at least."

"Of course sir. I believe only twenty or so of these were ever made."

"And I'm sure the killer knew this, why else choose such an item. The laces however are more peculiar."

Thompson looked at them and then bent down just as the Commissioner had done to review Goodman's shoes.

"They are generic, standard issue black laces. Bought commonly at any mercantile in the area." Fields summarised.

"They could come from anywhere Commissioner!"

"Indeed."

At that moment a third shadow was cast into the room. Both Fields and Thompson looked towards the door to see who the newcomer was. It was Inspector Lewis who looked most displeased to see the Commissioner walking through what should have been _his_ crime scene.

"Commissioner Fields, forgive me but I can take over now."

"Quite. Thompson please assist the Inspector in his investigation. I'm going to the Atherton's to debrief the Governor."

"No need Fields. I'm already here!"

The large figure of George Atherton arrived at the doorway. The Commissioner looked as unimpressed with his presence as Lewis had been at his own.

"Governor Atherton, please its best that you don't come in here." Constable Thompson tried to explain before he was cut off.

"Nonsense Constable, William Goodman was a close friend. I've come to see what you know and how close we are to capturing this villain."

Atherton directed his question at Commissioner Fields with a tone that demanded answers.

"We have some leads Governor." He offered,

"Leads? I don't want leads I want answers!"


	5. Chapter 5

Tea for two

"I was beginning to think that you were avoiding me." Meg confessed playfully as they sipped on their after dinner coffee.

It had been almost a week since the old friends had decided to meet for dinner.

"Not at all. Things have been extremely busy at the station." Fields replied trying to sound remorseful.

"Of course the Goodman murder."

"How did you…"

"I read the morning papers just like the rest of Washington, despite my mother's disapproval. Have there been any leads?"

"None as yet, but I'm sure something will turn up."

Fields was being deliberately cagey with Meg. He knew as well as policemen not to divulge details of a case to a member of the public, but the particulars of this case were gruesome at best.

"So what have you been up to these past few years?" He continued to deliberately change the subject,

"Still pursuing your music?"

"Alas, that has taken a back seat I'm afraid. Mama has me enrolled on various committees and such, I don't find the time anymore." Meg replied with genuine regret.

"That is a pity, I always liked to hear you play the piano."

Meg beamed at his compliment.

Fields quickly readjusted himself in his seat and wracked his brains for another topic to talk about. Although he had to admit he was finding it difficult.

When the carriage had arrived at the restaurant in the Bellevue district that evening, the Commissioner had been waiting for his dinner companion on the steps of the establishment. As Meg stepped out of the carriage, he had thought she looked stunning. The cut of her dress and the manner she had adorned her hair, made her breath-taking in his eyes. At that moment he knew bringing her out for dinner had been a wonderful, but terrible mistake. In the eyes of all Washington society, Margaret Porter was intended to one of the most influential men in the city but when Fields saw her step out of the carriage, he felt the long forgotten feeling he had held for her come flooding back.

To solve matters and to refocus his mind, Emmett Fields decided to pay the bill and order a carriage to take Meg back to her house. That way he could return to the solitude of his own home and try to forget about her. The couple waited outside the restaurant and asked the doorman to hail a carriage. They stood there for about twenty minutes before Fields succumbed to his better judgement and offered to walk Meg home.

The route towards the Porter's house was a short one, but neither of the pair tried to hurry their way there. They passed many couples walking a similar route around the city, which made the act seem less devious than Fields had once thought. They travelled together in comfortable silence and spoke happily when a topic presented itself worth discussing. As they reached the final few corners near Meg's home they began to trudge even slower, eking out the minutes before they had to part.

"Will you parents be up at this hour?" Fields asked worryingly. He didn't like the thought of being caught in Mrs Porter's- or Mr Porter's for that matter- wrath.

"It's unlikely. Father usually has a brandy before bed, but has usually gone up before ten."

"And Mrs Porter?" Fields urged,

"Safe and sound asleep by quarter past nine." Meg laughed.

They had reached the final corner that led onto Vineyard Crest where the Porter's lived and the young couple final came to a stop. The both glanced towards the direction of the street and looked at each other solemnly.

"Thank you for walking me home. I will be safe from here."

Meg had had the same thought as her partner. It wouldn't do for her parents to see her walking home with Emmett, especially at this late hour. She thought it best to walk the last few yards on her own.

"Are you sure?"

"It's probably best."

Sensing her meaning Fields tittered briefly. He then grabbed her hand and kissed her gloved fingers.

"Good night Meg."

"Good night Emmett."

Meg stepped out into the road that would take her to her street and threw a glance over her shoulder. She beamed at Emmett then frowned as she saw the look of pure terror on his face. The young Commissioner yelled her name and came rushing towards her, she looked behind her and froze. A runaway carriage pulled by two wild horses was speeding towards her, coming from the direction of Vineyard Crest. The next few moments were a blur, all she remembered was a sudden sharp pain in the side of her head as she made contact with the cold pavement.

Waking some time later her head was throbbing, but Meg could tell by the softness of the surface she lay on and the dim lights around her, she was inside. The injured woman could hear the shrill tones of her mother as they assaulted her ears. There were other voices too, softer and much lower in pitch. She tried to sit up but the ache in her head was excruciating so she lay down again.

"Henry, Henry she's awake!" Her mother shrieked.

"Yes my dear I can see." Her father sat on the edge of the sofa where she lay and leant over her form,

"Are you quite alright Margaret?"

"Yes, my head hurts terribly though."

"You're very lucky it's only your head. If it hadn't been for Mr Fields here, it could have been a lot worse."

Emmett appeared at her side. His coat was torn at the sleeve and his exposed shirt was stained red with blood.

"You're hurt!" Meg exclaimed as loud as she could.

"It's just a scratch, don't worry about me." He smiled reassuringly.

"Yes, you should be worrying about my daughter. What were you thinking? Walking her home at this ungodly hour. You should have put her in a carriage!"

Meg's mother had always favoured theatrics in moments of peril or crisis and her performances tonight was nothing short of marvellous.

"Mama, I will be okay. Please stop fretting."

"I will not. Just wait till Governor Artheton hears about this. Mark my words you will be out on your ear." Mrs Porter said angrily as she waggled her finger in Emmett's general direction.

"Mother, you will do no such thing! I am perfectly fine, nothing a little sleep won't cure. Now will you please help me upstairs?"

Meg got shakily to her feet but hid her pain expertly. As she wandered towards the stairs with her mother's help, she could faintly hear her father thanking the Commissioner for his assistance and seeing him to the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Twist in the tale

Over the next few days Commissioner Fields thought it best to stay away from Meg and the Porter's. After the accident on Vineyard Crest he felt his presence around or anywhere near Mr and Mrs Porter's daughter, would be unwelcome. In truth Fields found that his time was spent more and more preoccupied with the investigation of the Commissioner Goodman's murder. Although officially he was not attached to the case, the Governor had been so adamant that he be involved with the investigation he wanted to keep a close ear, in case any breakthrough was made. Secretly, he was finding it difficult to abandon his old life as an Inspector and fully assume his new role as Commissioner. Though Fields never voiced it to anyone, he assumed correctly that Constable Thompson had discovered as much, since when Inspector Lewis was out of the office he debriefed the Commissioner of all the comings and goings within the inquiry.

The case took a sinister turn more suddenly than expected. A second body was discovered at the court houses. The victim was Judge Lane a close relation to the deceased Commissioner and Governor Atherton. When the news came into the station of the connection between the victims the Governor was once again hounding Fields, demanding daily updates in the case. Frustrated with the lack of development, the Commissioner gathered his forces in his office late one evening to discuss what was being done.

"Inspector Lewis where are we with the letter opener." Fields said firmly.

"Dead end sir. We found no trace of residue or clues that would lead us to a suspect. We expect the assailant was wearing gloves."

"Thompson, what about the shoe laces?"

"Sorry sir it's just as we thought. The laces are generic and can be bought at several mercantile stores in the surrounding Washington area."

"There must be a connection!"

Fields shouted as he stood up abruptly and began pacing behind his desk. His subordinates glanced nervously at each other, they had never seen their superior lose his temper before.

"The letter opener was a significant gift given to those that had been or come into power since independence. The killer knew this which is why it was their weapon of choice. Whereas the shoe laces are common, non-interesting, but again must show some significance."

"Like what?" Thompson posed.

"Significance to the attacker. Think about it, Goodman was killed by a weapon of his own making so why garrotte him? Why go to the effort of killing him twice? Unless the killer was sending us a message, telling us who he was?"

"That's absurd sir!" Inspector Lewis interrupted.

Thompson looked at him, stunned at his defiance.

"You said it yourself Thompson. Those laces could come from any shoes, from any man within the City." Lewis continued.

"Not shoes."

Fields picked up the laces from his desk and examined them once more.

"These are too long for shoes. These laces were made for boots."

"But there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people in the City that wear boots." This time it was Thompson to disagree with the Commissioner. He didn't like it, but he could see the Inspectors point of view.

Sitting down deflated in his chair, Fields ran his hands through his hair and exhaled in exasperation.

"Okay, what else? What did you find at the Judge's crime scene?"

"Not much else. The judge had been stabbed through the heart. We found nothing incriminating that would lead us to a suspect." Lewis concluded.

"Well," Constable Thompson began before he was shot a look of disproval from his senior.

"Well what?" Field insisted.

"Well I did notice behind the Judge's platform, the scales." Thompson continued,

"What about the scales?"

"They were imbalanced Commissioner. One side was weighed down."

"Oh Thompson what does that prove?" Inspector Lewis shot down as he too stood up from his chair in frustration.

"Forgive me sir, but I used to work in those courts before I became a police. I know for a fact that every courtroom has a replica of the scale of justice. Commissioner, those scales should be even."

Fields sat back in his chair and pondered that thought out loud,

"Is the killer trying to tell us something? Has he himself suffered an injustice?"

"Excuse me Commissioner, you've got incredible theories, sensational theories. But that's what they are at best, theories. We need to looks at the cold hard facts, not conjecture."

"Inspector at the moment all we have to go on are boot laces, scales and little else. I believe the Commissioner's theory should be paid attention to!"

It was Thompson's turn to become frustrated. The young Constable sat stiffly in his seat, he had never in his career questioned a commanding officers words, but he genuinely believed and supported Fields notion.

The Inspector looked like he was about to throttle the man where he sat. Sensing their unease Fields decided to call it a night.

"Gentleman we all want to get to the bottom of this. But we're tired, I think it's best to leave it for this evening and begin again in the morning. Go home, I'll see you tomorrow."

Inspector Lewis didn't answer him other than to offer a curt goodnight and leave the room. Thompson stayed behind to help tidy away the evidence.

"Forgive me sir, if I spoke out of turn."

"Thompson it's not wrong to follow your instinct in these situations, but remember that Inspector Lewis is your commanding officer."

"Yes sir. Goodnight.

"Goodnight."

Thompson collected the evidence from Fields desk and began to walk out the door. He had gone no further than three steps when a piece fell to the floor with a soft flump.

"I'll get it." Fields said helpfully.

Stooping to pick up the misplaced item he recognised it straight away. It was the cotton handkerchief that Meg had given him earlier to bind his hand.

"Wait, this isn't evidence?"

"No sir it is, that was found on the desk of Judge Lane."

"That's impossible, this is…are you quite sure Thompson?"

"Yes sir. I thought it strange but it was found on the Judge's desk."

The colour drained from Fields face and he immediately fled the police station taking the piece of evidence with him, leaving Constable Thompson contemplating what significance the handkerchief was.


	7. Chapter 7

Serve and Protect

"Tell me John, how's your father?" Mrs Porter asked gleefully.

"He's doing well considered, thank you Mrs Porter." John Atherton replied as he wiped his mouth on the line napkin.

The young Atherton had been invited to dine at the Porter's. The meal was exuberant and the wine flowed freely. Mr Porter thought it would take the man's mind off the horrific murders of late whilst Mrs Porter's motive was less obtuse. Since her daughter arrived home unconscious and in the arms of the Commissioner Fields, she was more determined than ever for her daughter's relationship with John Atherton to continue and flourish. The Atherton's were high society and if John was to seek his wife in Margaret, her future would be secured. Emmett Fields in her opinion may have been an object of her daughters affection in the past, but now he was an obstacle in the way.

"It's a terrible shame. What are the police department doing about it? Nothing I'd expect!" Mrs Porter continued.

"I wouldn't say that Mrs Porter. Commissioner Fields has assured my father that every possible inquiry and lead is being followed."

"_Commissioner _Fields, indeed! That man is lucky to still be in employment after what,"

"Mama!" Meg reprimanded icily. She didn't want John to know what had occurred the other night with Emmett.

"Ah well, I'm sure you're father John knows what he's doing." Winifred conceded.

"I like Mr Fields ma'am. His past experiences have given him a great insight into the minds of the depraved and world of the macabre, and I believe that he is and will be an important appointment to this great City." John explained articulately.

"Hear, hear!" Mr Porter agreed.

Mrs Porter shot her husband an cold stare, which quickly prompted the man to change the subject.

"What about you John, what plans does your father have for you?"

"Well for the time being I'm…"

John was cut off by a forceful and heavy bang at the front door. The sound was followed by a great deal of commotion and voices in the hallway. Mrs Porter and Meg sat quietly, whilst Mr Porter rose from his seat to investigate the disturbance. The Porter's butler was soon at the door apologising for the trouble, but was cut off by the entrance of Commissioner Field.

"Emmett!" Meg exclaimed both happy and surprised to see him.

"Forgive me Mr Porter, ordinarily I wouldn't come unannounced, but this is a matter of urgency."

"It's quite alright Fields. What's the trouble?"

"We have reason, I have reason to suspect that your daughter is in danger." Fields said cautiously.

There were echoes of stunned voices from around the table.

"What do you mean?" Mr Porter urged.

"I cannot go into the particulars sir, but I assure you me reason is sound."

"Preposterous, you expect us to believe you after what you…"

"Winifred! Please no theatrics."

"Fields, are you sure?" John put forward.

"Yes Mr Atherton."

"Then Mrs Porter, we must heed to the Commissioners advice."

Mr Porter's looked at his daughter with love and concern then turned back to face the police officer.

"What do you suggest?"

"If you would allow, I intend to take Miss Porter into my custody. Until we can be completely sure that she is no longer in any danger."

"Your custody?" Atherton quizzed suggestively.

"Yes sir. I can assure you the utmost care will be taken with Miss Porter's life."

Fields said as must as he could to the gentleman without being too forward or allusive.

John exhaled and nodded his accord. Taking Meg's hand he led her towards the Commissioner and deposited it into his. He turned towards her parents and explained,

"I believe we must trust the Commissioner Mrs Porter. If he gives us his assurance that Margaret will be safe, then we must trust him."

Mrs Porter was about to object but was silenced when she saw the look on Fields face. He seemed sincere. With her husband's permission and the blessing of young Atherton, she had no choice but to allow the Commissioner to do what he felt necessary. This did not stop her from warning him however as he left their house taking his daughter with him.

"Mr Fields, if anything happens to my daughter…"

"I know Mrs Porter. I promise I will not let that happen."

With those final words Emmett Fields left the Porters house with their only child.


	8. Chapter 8

Mortal Danger

Meg wandered around the cosy living room in Emmett's house. There were books piled some seven and eight high all over the floor, indeed any flat surface. There was a cat's skull on the mantel piece that would have frightened most women, but Meg found it fascinating. It was a typical bachelor's parlour. A fire crackled in the grate and cast the room in a warm glow and the curtains were drawn against the cold Washington night. She sat down on the leather sofa adjacent to the fireplace and waited for Emmett to finish his conversation with his housekeeper, Mrs Hughes.

The former Inspector wasn't long and soon joined his witness in the living room and shut the door towards the entrance hall. He walked over towards the drinks tray that was positioned away from the fire, lifted a crystal tankard of ochre coloured whiskey and with a soft clink, uncorked it.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"No, unlike you I was never really liked whiskey."

Her comment made him smile as he remembered a night from their youth when she had tasted the drink for the first time. She was fifteen and a debutante of the season, he a man of twenty-three sent to the party at the behest of his father, in the hope that he might meet the future Mrs Fields. Instead he met a spirited young woman who was desperate to get away from all the well-wishers, admirers and chaperones. In the billiards room they had found one another and spent hours talking excitedly of their plans for the future. Just before they were discovered she had shown him to her father's study and poured them both a large measure of his fine malt whiskey. He sipped it like he had seen his father do many times before, but she had gulped it down in one go and then promptly coughed it back up. That was the first of many nights they spent together before he entered the academy and then left the City for Baltimore.

Spotting him smirking behind her, Meg grew suspicious,

"What are you smirking at?"

"Nothing, just the warmth of the fire cracking my cold face."

Emmett carried his tumbler of whiskey to the sofa and sat down beside Meg and stared into the fire. The young Miss Porter noticed that the smirk did not leave his face as he gaped into the blaze.

"Your face cracks rather easily. What are you thinking?"

"I was just reminiscing. Do you remember the winter of 43? You and I attended the Governors ice-skating party."

"Yes I do, I was frightfully useless."

"Yes you were!"

"You were not much better as I recall." She replied feigning insult.

"No. It was such a cold day. We came here afterwards with James Claridge and Clara Wood, soaked to the skin. Do you remember?"

Fields turned in his seat to look at her and noticed she had edged forwards, ever so slightly.

"I remember. They're married now, did you know?" She replied softly.

"I'd heard yes."

"With two children."

Meg was barely whispering at this point. She was staring at the man that years ago she believed would have become her husband. She couldn't help regretting how she had let him slip away from her before revealing her true feelings for him. Emmett was staring just as intently at her now. The same thoughts were playing through his own mind. He couldn't help but wonder if he had stayed in Washington and risen through the ranks of commission here, how differently things may have turned out.

He settled his glass on a pile of books next to him and moved closer towards the young woman beside him. The experienced man knew in his head, what he was about to do was wrong, but in his heart he reasoned how wrong could it be to kiss the woman you have loved for so long? Meg uttered his name as he leant nearer towards her, but Emmett silenced her as he placed his lips tenderly on hers. As they kissed one another they allowed their hands to rest lovingly on one another's bodies and enjoyed the sensation of realising what they had both wanted to do the first day they had met again.

Their pleasure was short lived however, Mrs Hughes knocked politely on the other side of the door. The enamoured couple broke apart their embrace and edged away from one another on the sofa.

"Come in Mrs Hughes." Emmett called shakily.

The middle aged woman walked into the room apologetically. She wasn't to know what she had just stumbled across, but she wasn't completely ignorant to the relationship that had occurred between them in the past.

"Forgive me Mr Fields, there is a gentleman police officer at the door wishing to speak to you."

Fields immediately went to see who it was and returned to the living room after a few short minutes at the door.

"I'm afraid I have to go."

Meg rose from her seat and looked at him confused,

"What for?"

"There have been some developments in the case that require my attention."

He walked over to his sweetheart when he saw the look of panic on her face,

"Do not worry, Mrs Hughes has a room made ready for you, sleep here tonight and I will see you in the morning."

Mrs Hughes sensing that the couple wanted to be left alone swiftly closed the door and waited patiently on the other side.

"Will you be long?"

"I'm not sure, but I will return when I can."

Fields grasped the scared woman by the shoulders and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. Meg grabbed his arms and looked at him worryingly, but was satisfied with his promise.

The Commissioner left the house immediately and took the carriage the constable had brought with him. Mrs Hughes prepared some tea and brought it to her master's guest. As she was serving it in the sitting room a further knock came at the door. This time it was Inspector Lewis who admitted himself entrance without invitation. He burst into the room where Meg was sat sipping her tea comfortably with a look of panic on his face,

"Miss Porter, you must come with me now."

"What is it Inspector Lewis?"

"I have director orders Ma'am from Commissioner Fields, you are to immediately leave this residence and return with me to the police station."

"Of course."

Mrs Hughes removed Meg's belongings that had already been placed in her room and handed them to the Inspector and watched nervously as the pair left in the buggy, driven by the Inspector himself.

The flustered woman did not sleep that night with all the commotion that evening had brought. She was still wide awake at two o'clock when she heard the key turn in lock, signalling Fields return home. As he closed the door behind him and began removing his cloak, he smiled tiredly at his housekeeper.

"It's alright Mrs Hughes, just a false alarm. You may go to bed now."

"Thank you sir." The weary woman replied as she began to climb the stairs to her room and rest.

"I take it Miss Porter is already asleep?"

The housekeeper looked confused at her employer,

"No Mr Fields, she's at the police station like you requested."

Fields thought she was joking and laughed. When Mrs Hughes didn't join in he realised something was amiss.

"What do you mean Mrs Hughes?"

"That Inspector came. Not thirty minutes after you had left and took Miss Porter to the station. What was his name? Larry, Lewisham?"

"Lewis!"

"Yes sir, Lewis!"

Fields quickly grabbed his coat from the stand and without another word fled his house into the night.


End file.
